


This Is How It Ends

by coffeestains_and_oldbooks



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Character Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapping, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24248683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeestains_and_oldbooks/pseuds/coffeestains_and_oldbooks
Summary: Spencer meets Bunny while looking for a new book to read at a local bookstore. The two become fast friends, bonding over the book she recommended him. On their second meeting, he's called away on work to Salem Massachusetts, where a serial killer is kidnapping and killing their victims, and dumping them in medieval clothing. Will the team solve the case? Will Spencer get the girl?
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Bunny by Tourist

Spencer’s fingers ran over the spines of the books on the shelves in front of him. He wasn’t looking for anything in specific, just browsing on a rare day off from the bureau. He had read just about everything in his apartment ten times over, and could recite each and every one of them by heart if someone had asked him to. He had to find something new to read, not that there was anything wrong with the books he had, but something new would be nice for the long plane rides in the coming weeks.

He had never stepped foot in the little bookstore before, and now that he was here, he wasn’t sure why. It was a charming shop, quiet and quaint, with tall shelves and cozy corners for those who wished to tuck themselves away for a while to read in peace. Faint music wafted through the air. It was a calming song, soothing and a bit pensive. He felt himself get sucked into it, letting the melody of the string instruments wash over him. He didn’t even realize he was spacing until he heard humming. It was a girl’s voice, and when he heard it he jumped to attention, searching for the voice out of reflex. 

His eyes landed on a girl standing a little ways down the aisle of bookshelves. She was rather short, and looked to be about her age. Her black hair hung down a little past her shoulders in waves. Next to her was a little cart of books she was shelving. “It’s DeVotchKa.” She said suddenly. 

“Excuse me?” His voice croaked. 

She looked at him and smiled, pausing in her shelving. “The song, it’s How It Ends by DeVotchKa.” She looked back at her shelf. “You seemed to enjoy it so I thought I’d let you know.” 

“Oh, thank you.” He said, ducking his head a bit. 

The girl wheeled her cart farther down the aisle until she was standing next to him. He noticed just how short she was now, her head reaching a little above his shoulders. “Are you looking for anything? I can help you find it.” Now that she stood closer, he got a good look at the bookstore uniform she wore, as well as her face. Her face was round and pale, framed by straight bangs, and a pair of large, oval-square glasses hid hazel eyes.

“No I’m not looking for anything in particular.” He let out a laugh. “But if you have any recommendations, I’m all ears.” 

She smiled. “Ah, recommendations are what I’m best at. What are you in the mood for?” She hummed. “Something sad? Something romantic?” She dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Something spooky.” 

He laughed again. This girl was interesting to say the least. “Anything is fine.” 

“Ah well, in that case, here.” She reached in her cart and pulled out a thick book with a picture of a distraught man on the cover. “A Little Life, it’s one of my favorites. Though, I will warn you it’s pretty graphic and depressing.” 

He took it from her. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She grabbed a hold of her cart again and wheeled it past him, before turning to look at him over her shoulder. “You’ll have to come back and let me know what you thought of it.” 

“I will…” He trailed off, inviting her to share her name with him. 

“Bunny.” She said, thumbing the little nametag she wore.

“Bunny.” He repeated, trying it out for himself. An interesting name for an interesting girl. “I’m Spencer.” 

“Well Spencer, I look forward to seeing you again.” With that she turned back to her cart and pushed it away to another set of shelves. 

“Bunny.” He repeated to himself again once she had disappeared. He looked down at the book in his hands and smiled. He would definitely enjoy returning there. And returned he did, about two days later, with the book in his hands. As soon as he walked in, he saw her. She was manning the cash register that day, a bored look on her face, until she saw him walk in. 

“Spencer.” She beamed. “Did you like it?” 

He nodded, stopping in front of the counter she stood behind. “You were right, it did get graphic. The ending really got to me too, I don’t think I’ve cried over a book that much before.” 

“I’m glad you liked it, the ending got me too, though you don’t really strike me as the type to cry over books.” 

He chuckled. "I was really interested in Jude's story, he went through a lot."

"I know!" She exclaimed. He studied her face, the way it lit up when she talked about the book. Something he didn't see in a lot of other people when they talked about books with him. Is this how he looked when he talked about something he loved? "That poor man, he deserved so much better."

"I agree." 

“I’m actually surprised you finished it this fast, I thought I read fast and it took me about a week to finish it. 

“I can read twenty thousand words per minute.” He said sheepishly. 

“That’s amazing.” He watched her eyes sparkle in wonder. “I wish I could read that fast. You know how many books I could read in a week if I could? I don’t think I’d have to worry about which book to read ever again, it just wouldn’t matter.” 

“I actually finished it a lot sooner, I just didn’t have the time to come back until today.” This elicited a small laugh from her. 

“You’re a pretty interesting guy Spencer.” She rested her chin on her hand, leaning closer to him over the counter. He studied her closely, and for the first time he noticed her necklace. It was a dark oval locket, it looked as if it were made of wood. It hung close to her neck, like a choker, from a dark velvet ribbon and had a silver engraving of a flower, lily of the valley. It looked to him like a mourning locket, a necklace women wore in the victorian era to remember their loved ones once they had passed. Before Spencer could reply, or ask about her necklace, his phone buzzed, signaling a phone call. 

“Sorry, one moment.” He turned away and answered with a simple, “hello?” 

“Reid, it’s JJ, we’ve got a case, I’ll explain more when you get here.” 

“I’ll be there soon.” He hung up after exchanging byes with JJ and turned back toward Bunny. 

“What was that about?” She scrunched her nose. She appeared very rabbit-like, much like her namesake. “Sorry, that’s nosey of me, you don’t have to answer that.” 

“No it’s fine, it’s my work that’s all. I have to go.” 

“Oh! Before you do, I have another book for you. If you want of course.” 

He smiled. “I’d love it.” 

She reached under the counter and pulled out a copy of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. He reached into his satchel to grab his wallet before she stopped him. 

“It’s on me.” She said. “It’s a personal copy of mine.” 

“I can’t take this.” 

“I insist.” She smiled. “I have a few copies of it. It’s yours, I mean it.” 

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon then?” 

“I look forward to it.” They waved to each other as he hurried out of the bookstore. He checked his watch as he rushed down the sidewalk to get to the metro station, breathing out a sigh of relief when he realized he would just make it for the train he needed. Alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but think of Bunny. She had seemed genuinely interested in him and his ability to read as fast as he could. He entered the metro train he needed. She had leaned forward to talk to him, a clear indicator that she was interested in their conversation. He was used to people showing signs of disinterest while talking to him. But she made it clear that she was glad to be talking to him. 

As quick as he had gotten on, his train had arrived, and he hurried off of it as soon as the doors had opened. He pushed his ways through the throngs of people and up out of the metro to hurry into the BAU. The entire trek into the office and into the briefing room, he continued to think about Bunny. He must have been looking far away because as soon as he passed him in the bullpen, Morgan was on his tail. 

“Morning pretty boy,” He said. “Whatcha thinkin’ about in that beautiful brain of yours?”

“Nothing.” He waved him off. 

“I find that hard to believe.” 

Reid just shrugged in response as they sat down at the round table with everyone else. 

“We’ve got three dead women and two dead men in the past five weeks in Salem, Massechusettes. Before they were found dead, they were kidnapped, taken from their homes in the middle of the night.” JJ started. “They were found in the woods, wearing elaborate ball clothing, with multiple stab wounds to the stomach.” 

“Ball clothing?” Prentiss said. 

“Looks like renaissance period.” Reid mumbled. He leafed through the papers from the files, inspecting the crime scene photos. “They all have masquerade masks as well.” 

JJ nodded. “All the clothing was put on them antemortem, so they died in them.” 

“That’s a lot dead in that short of time. How long were they kept before they were killed?” Rossi asked. 

“That’s the thing, it’s not consistent” JJ pressed a button on her remote and a woman with light blonde hair popped up on the screen. “Rebekah Phillips was found weeks after her abduction-” she pressed another button and this time a man with dark hair popped up. “While Oscar Brooks was found a few days after he was abducted.” 

“Why the discrepancy?” Rossi gestured at his folder. “What’s causing him to kill these people at indefinite times?” 

“We’re not sure yet, let’s talk more about it on the plane. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch said, grabbing his folder and striding out of the room. 

Reid sat still for a few more moments while everyone filed out, drinking in the contents that lay before him. 

“Reid, you good man?” Morgan asked. 

Reid jumped slightly. “Uh, yeah. I’m just looking at these costumes. They’re elaborate, you don’t really get these just anywhere.” 

“Let’s go, we’ll figure it out.” Morgan clapped his shoulder and then left the room. Reid stood, closing the folder and grabbing it, along with the book Bunny had given him, then followed Morgan out the door. 

They had thirty minutes before they needed to leave, and Reid excused himself to return to his apartment. Normally, he'd have a go bag poised and ready for this kind of thing, but he had taken it home with him after the last case and hadn't brought one back, having just finished his laundry and hadn't had the time to fix a new one. He once again found himself rushing down the busy streets and into the metro, and just as before his thoughts were occupied by Bunny. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that made her so interesting to him. Was it that she showed interest in him? They had only spoken on two occasions, and not for very long at all. 

He shook his head and stepped off the train he was on. Once out of the metro, he followed the familiar walk to his apartment, but he must not have been paying attention, because he ran into someone head on, causing them to drop their things. He was thankful he had put his folder and book in his satchel before he had left the office. 

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbled as he bent down to help whoever it was pick up their things. 

“Spencer?” The person said. His head shot up to see he was nose to nose with Bunny. This close he could count each individual freckled that dotted her pale face. He felt himself mentally connecting them, like constellations in the night sky. 

“Bunny. I’m sorry, I must not have been paying attention.” He chuckled, shaking himself from his reverie. 

She shook her head. “No it’s fine, it’s totally my fault.” They both stood, him handing her the books she had dropped. He noticed finally that they were standing right in front of the bookstore she worked at. She must have just gotten off. “I thought you had work?” 

“Yeah, I was just heading to my apartment to grab my bag, I have to travel.” 

“Seems like we’re heading the same way.” She smiled, motioning for him to walk with her. They walked together side by side at a steady pace, Bunny with her arms full of books. “It sounds like we’ll both be gone for a while.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking down at her. “I can help you carry some of those.” 

“No no, I got it. I’m going to visit my sister for a few days, she lives back in my hometown.” 

“Hometown?” So she wasn't from here. He thought about asking where she was from, but part of him thought it might be too invasive so he decided against it. That could wait another day, when they were better friends.

“I was gonna tell you before you left the bookstore, but I forgot. I’m glad I got to see you again to let you know, I wouldn't want you showing up to the shop without me there.” He watched a tiny blush spread across her face. "I mean, you know, when you're looking for me and all." She stopped suddenly. “This is me, I’ll see you later.” 

He held the door open for her and they exchanged goodbyes. Once she was inside, he let go of the door and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. She lived only a few blocks from him and he’d never seen her before. She must have just moved. He was a ways down the sidewalk when he heard her voice again.

“Oh hey, Spence.” He turned to see her poking out from behind the door. “You should take a look at that inside cover when you get the chance.” She said and disappeared. 

Spence. He cracked a smile. He made quick work of packing his go bag back at his apartment and then returning to the bureau to get on the jet just in time. 

“Good of you to join us Reid.” Hotch said as he grabbed a seat around everyone else so they could go over the case some more. 

“Sorry, I ran into a friend on the way to my apartment.” He said, setting his satchel on the ground. “Literally.”

“Friend?” Pretiss asked. Reid just gave her one of his tight lipped smiles and opened his folder. 

“What do we know about this unsub?” Hotch asked. 

“He doesn’t care about who it is he’s abducting, so he’s not kidnapping for a sexual reason.” Prentiss offered. 

“The costumes could indicate a fantasy the killer is creating, like a historical event or play of some kind.” Reid mused. “These are costumes you make for renaissance festivals or theatre companies. It’s not something you just come across everyday.”

“So we should look into companies around the area that make these types of costumes.” Hotch said. “We need to figure out why he’s killing when he does.” 

“It feels like he's keeping them for something.” Morgan said. 

Spencer thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s part of his fantasy. He’s kidnapping them to be a part of this fantasy, and when they don’t comply he kills them.” 

“Good. Morgan, Rossi, I want you at the last crime scene. JJ, you and I will touch base with the police. Reid, Prentiss, try and look further into this fantasy he may be creating.” 

Spencer nodded as the team dispersed to go about their own business. He stood, grabbing his satchel, and sat back down in a far corner. He thought back to what Bunny had said. Reaching into his satchel, he pulled out a copy of the book she had given him and opened the hard, front cover to see a message scrawled in neat, loopy handwriting. 

“Hey, I figured you might not be able to come into the bookstore every time you finish a book I recommend, so call me? I’d love to hear your thoughts in greater detail. Sorry if this is weird, I know we just met.” It read. Underneath was a phone number and her name. He felt a smile make its way to his face. 

“What’s that smile for?” Spencer jumped when he heard Morgan’s voice. 

“Nothing.” 

Morgan laughed and sat down in one of the seats across from him. “You’re a shit liar. So what is it? A girl?” 

Spencer didn’t answer and he knew that told Morgan all he needed to know. Morgan’s face broke into a wicked grin. 

“Pretty boy's found a girlfriend.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s just a friend.” Spencer said. “We met a few days ago at a bookstore not far from my apartment.” 

“She give you her number?” He asked. Spencer nodded, looking back down at the book in his hands. “You should give her a call.” 

He didn’t respond. Morgan stood and went back over to where he had been sitting previously, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts again. He thought about Morgan’s words, turning them over in his mind. Maybe he was right. He made a promise to himself that he would call whenever he had a chance. Or whenever he finished the book. Whichever came first. He opened to the first page and began reading.


	2. October Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The BAU lands in Salem Massachusetts and while interviewing, Spencer runs into a familiar face. Spencer also struggles with the feeling that he's missing something with the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: October Country by October Country
> 
> When I’m writing this, I often watch old episodes of criminal minds, so I’m refreshed on how things work and of course how each character talks and behaves, but I also listen to a lot of music and so I think I’ll start leaving the songs I listen to while I’m writing each chapter that I think influenced how I wrote.
> 
> Music listened to while writing chapter 2  
> 80’s Comedown Machine - The Strokes  
> Salem - Fox Academy  
> Ab Aeterno - Ill Spector  
> Reading In Bed - Emily Haines & The Soft Skeleton  
> Tristane - Oscar Schuster

By the time they landed about four hours later, Spencer had read and reread The Bell Jar a number of times, formulating things he wanted to talk about with Bunny when he got the chance. It was a short book, but he enjoyed it. He was surprised he had never read it before, having been interested in Sylvia Plath's poetry and knowing the book was semi autobiographical. He wondered if Bunny enjoyed her poetry. He decided he would ask her when they talked about the book together. 

He sat currently in the conference room of the station, having just put up the geographical profile on one of the whiteboards. The dump sites were all near each other, in the same woods, just different spots in said woods. That meant that the unsub either knew the woods well or lived close by. Remember his allotted job that Hotch had given him on the plane, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Garcia’s number at Quantico. 

“You’ve reached the office of extreme technical genius, speak and you shall be spoken to.” The familiar voice said through the speaker. 

“Garcia, I need any costume shops around Salem where the women went missing.” 

“Ah, speaking of genius, hello doctor.” He heard the sound of her fingers type away at her keyboard. “I have found five in the immediate area, even more outside of that.” 

“Narrow that down to ones that specialize in high quality renaissance costumes.” 

“I got two, faxing them to you now boy wonder.” 

“Thanks Garcia.” 

“No problem.” With that she hung up. Spencer stood, shrugging on his coat and scarf. Salem was chilly in October, that much he learned real quick. He grabbed his satchel from the floor and left the conference room, making his way to Hotch who was talking to one of the officers. 

“Hey Hotch, Garcia found two costume shops around the area, I’m gonna go check them out.”

“Alright, take Prentiss and keep me updated.” Hotch responded. Spencer nodded to Prentiss, who sat in an office chair near one of the desks, and she stood following his to the fax machine. 

“Only two?” She said, grabbing the paper. 

“Shouldn’t take us too long then.” They hurried out of the station and into one of the vans, Prentiss at the wheel and headed to the first shop. It was large and gaudy, with rows of dresses intricately designed and carefully arranged and displayed. The man at the front desk wore a costume himself, just as well designed as all the rest. 

“I’m Emily Prentiss and this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we’re with the FBI.” Prentiss said, flashing her badge to the man. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.” 

“Have there been any customers here recently, looking for elaborate ball gowns or masquerade masks?” Spencer asked. 

He watched the man think for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. No one’s really looking for anything in specific right now, just buying whatever they can for Halloween.” 

“Is there anyone that works here, making costumes?” Prentiss asked. 

“No, I get them shipped here from various companies that specialize in making time period costumes. Places out of state.” 

Spencer nodded, and grabbed a card from his satchel and scribbled down the tip hotline for the case in his messy handwriting. “Well, if you see or hear anything suspicious, give us a call.” 

“Thank you.” Prentiss added. 

“Nothing here.” Spencer opened the door to the passenger seat. “Do you think we’ll have better luck at the other store?” 

“I hope so, or we’ll be back at square one.” 

The second store was smaller than the first, and right next to a small coffee shop that Spencer made a note to come back to when he got the chance. This store was a lot mustier and less extravagant than the first, with only a few pieces on display, instead favoring for customers to inquire about custom made clothing. There was a woman at this front desk, dressed in a knitted sweater depicting cats playing with yarn. 

“Can I help you?” She said peering at them over her glasses that were connected to a string of pearls. 

Prentiss repeated the same line she had given the previous owner, and Spencer asked the first question again, “Has anyone requested any elaborate ball attire?” 

“No, nothing of that sort.” The woman shook her head. 

“Do you have anyone who works here that helps make these costumes?” He asked. 

The woman thought for a moment. “Just myself and a few other women.” 

“Can we get those women’s information?” Prentiss asked. The woman nodded and excused herself to get the information for them. 

“Do you think it could be a woman?” asked Prentiss once they were alone. 

Spencer shook his head. “No, I don’t think a woman is strong enough to subdue and kidnap men as big as them, and I doubt the unsub is working with a partner.” 

“Maybe it’s a son or a protege.” 

“Maybe.” The woman returned with the information and handed it to Prentiss. The two thanked her and left the shop, almost running into two women who were about to enter. 

“Sorry about that.” Said one of the women. Spencer looked over at the pair and made a noise of surprise. 

“Bunny?” He said. 

“Spencer.” The girl smiled. She wasn’t wearing her glasses and he noticed she wore dark eyeliner around her eyes, both the top and bottom eyelids, that ended in a wing. She wore a black, double breasted peplum coat and black pleated skirt. She was a tad taller than normal, he acquitted the difference to the black heeled boots she was wearing over black tights. She looked as if she was dressed for a funeral, but he wasn’t one to judge a person’s personal style much. “It’s good to see you.” 

“I didn’t know you’d be in Salem.” 

She laughed. “I did tell you I was heading to my hometown didn’t I? I just got here.” She had told him that he just hadn’t thought that Salem would be her hometown. “This is my sister, Jane.” Her sister was taller than her, about Prentiss’s height. She had brown hair, pulled back into a high ponytail that accentuated a slimmer face than Bunny had. Her style was brighter than her sisters, with a soft yellow peacoat over white jeans. They looked like total opposites and yet they had the same eyes and the same pleasantness to them that he could see the resemblance. “Jane this is Spencer, the guy I was telling you about.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out her hand to shake. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t shake hands.” He said. 

The woman didn’t look confused at all, and just let her hand fall back to her side. “Neither does my sister.” 

“I’m sure it’s for a different reason though, I just don’t like being touched by people I’ve just met.” Bunny said. “Makes me feel uncomfortable.” 

“Ah, Bunny this is my associate and friend, Emily Prentiss.” Spencer said, motioning to Prentiss next to him, who had been looking on at the whole situation with wonder. “Emily, this is Bunny, we met at a bookstore not far from my apartment.” 

“It’s good to meet you. It’s not everyday Spencer introduces us to his friends.” She laughed. 

“So you’re in town for work then?” Bunny asked. 

Spencer nodded. “We’re here with the FBI, looking into the murders that have been going on around town, have you heard anything about them?” 

“It’s been awful.” Jane said. “And so close to Halloween. I hope things are solved before then, so people feel a little safer about sending their children out trick or treating.” 

“We’re doing everything we can to make sure we close things up quickly.” Prentiss said. “We should get back to the station.” 

“Yeah, it was good seeing you Bunny.” Spencer smiled. 

“You too, hey if you get the chance to step away for a bit, maybe we can grab coffee while you’re here.” 

“I’d like that, I’ll give you a call when I’m free.” Bunny blushed at that, obviously realizing that he had opened the book. 

They parted ways, Prentiss and Spencer getting into the van. 

“So Bunny.” Prentiss started. 

“Prentiss.” 

She laughed and started the car. “She seems nice, are you interested in her.” 

“We only met a few days ago.” 

“So are you going to pursue her?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” He said. “We’ve been bonding over books.” 

“Ah young love.” She laughed again. When they got back to the station, they updated Hotch and the rest, and then gave the names of the women that worked at the shop to Garcia to run background checks on, and to check for any sons or people they may have been teaching. 

“We’ve gotten new information from the ME.” Hotch said once they had all settled back in the conference room. “They said before they died, victims showed early signs of developing Tuberculosis.” 

“Tuberculosis?” Prentiss asked? 

“It used to be called consumption,” Spencer started, “it’s characterized by loss of appetite, coughing, weight loss, and fatigue. Those that have it usually cough up blood. It was quite popular around the 17th and 18th centuries, but dated as far back as 17,000 years ago.” 

“So does that mean our unsub could have it?” Morgan asked. 

“Most likely.” Hotch replied. 

“It might have something to do with his fantasy or delusion.” Spencer said. “It could be the reason he’s doing all of this.” 

“That’s possible, we should have Garcia run background on anyone who was diagnosed with Tuberculosis recently in Salem.” Said Hotch. 

Spencer thought for a moment. “We might also want to cross reference that with anyone who’s had medical history with delusional or paranoid behavior.” 

“What exactly is this delusion he’s having?” Morgan asked. 

“I’m not sure yet.” Spencer replied, mumbling. “I’ll look more into that, I’m sure there’s something to it. It seems familiar to me somehow.” 

“Report back here when you think you’ve figured it out.” 

“I will sir.” He stood from his seat. “I’m going to head to the library, do some more research.” He left the group, who went back to discussing what they had all been respectively looking into, and headed in the direction of a library he had seen on the way to the police headquarters from the airport. He decided to walk in favor of driving, as the walk was only about thirteen minutes give or take, to admire the beautiful yellows and oranges of the leaves that fell from the trees. Fall had always been his favorite, of course because of Halloween, but there was something serene and beautiful about autumn that every other season lacked. Not to mention, it made Salem all the more inviting. It really was an October country, it just felt like the city was meant to be in a perpetual autumn. 

Like everything else in the area, the library looked old and rather inviting to him. From what he knew about Salem, the library had once been a mansion owned by a sea merchant named John Bertram. It was three floors from what he could tell. He made his way to the second floor, and down the countless rows of books, not quite sure exactly what he was looking for. Something on Tuberculosis? Something on the renaissance time period? Why did this seem so familiar to him? 

He found himself wandering down the poetry aisle, in the Plath section. He found himself drawn here, he wasn’t quite sure why or what really brought him here, but here he was, running his fingers over the spines like he had on the first day he met Bunny. He pulled a copy of Ariel from the shelves, and flipped through it, landing on Lady Lazarus. His eyes danced over the words, taking in the religious symbolism and the poetic talk to suicide. That was always a prominent topic in her poetry, and he wondered what about it made Bunny interested in her work, or if Bunny had read her poetry outside of The Bell Jar, like he had thought about on the plane. 

He reshelved the book and wandered to another set of shelves, these holding books about historical nonfiction. He looked over titles of things he was already familiar with, books about jack the ripper, the government in the eighteenth century, books big and small accounting every moment of history. He pulled a number of books from the shelves, a couple on the history of tuberculosis, a number on the fashion of the renaissance, a couple on the origins of masquerade balls. By the time he had read through them all it was early evening. He had exhausted just about every book he could read on the subjects he needed, and yet it felt as if he was no closer to figuring it out than he had been. 

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket as he was shelving the last of the books he had taken. A text from Hotch told him that a new body had been found in the woods and to meet back at the station where Garcia was faxing them information about the woman. Spencer casted one last glance at the bookshelf, like a plea of sorts for help, as if the books could understand, and strode from the library. Back outside, it had gotten significantly colder as the sun set. Families scurried home, shops began to close. Watching the city move about their lives tugged the strings of his heart. He hoped they would be safe tonight.

He was greeted by a couple of his group when he had returned “Her name is Emmy Duval, 25, she was a costume tailor and freelance sewing instructor, taught people how to sew out of her house.” JJ said, reading from the paper. “She wasn’t reported missing at all, she was meant to be taking a vacation from her work, but it’s safe to assume he’s had her since this all began.” 

“We’ve been looking in the wrong place.” Prentiss said. 

Spencer nodded in agreement. “It’s not him that knows how to sew, he’s kidnapped someone who did.”

“Which means he’ll be kidnapping someone again soon that knows how to sew.” JJ pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’ll call Hotch and let him know.” She stepped away from the group to make her call in private. 

“Find anything else Reid?” Prentiss asked.

“No, nothing really useful, and nothing I didn’t already know.” 

JJ returned quickly. She had always known how to get through a phone call quicker than most people, something he was always astonished by. “Hotch said to head to the hotel, get some rest, we’ll reconvene in the morning, 8’oclock.” 

He was thankful he hadn’t gotten comfortable when he got back, and watched as Prentiss and JJ gathered their things. The drive from The Salem Police Department to The Salem Inn was only about two minutes, which made Spencer wonder why they were even driving in the first place. He glanced out the window from his seat in the back and admired the old graveyard they passed on the way there. 

They were staying in the West House of The Salem Inn. The area it was in, right at the heart of Salem itself, made Spencer wonder just how hard it was to even get rooms there, especially at this time of year, and he was thankful that they didn’t have to book the rooms themselves. They checked in and went to their respective rooms. He was amused to find that each room had its own unique name and story. The room he was staying in was room W10, Minerva’s Treasure, and had been named that after the gift shop that had occupied it’s space in the 1980’s, he had found out after reading more on it when he got to his room. 

The room itself was beautiful and antique looking, something he expected from the historic city that Salem was and prided itself on being. The walls were a deep red color, the trim was fake marble, something that had been painted on. When he first walked in, there sat his bed, a large, white, four poster with white bedding that looked inviting and clean. Farther into the room was a small, brown, couch, a tiny, black wood round table, and a black rocking chair next to it. The chair and table sat between the two windows that were covered by white curtains. The room was cozy and atmospheric. He set his things down and changed into his sleeping clothes, making himself comfortable, but the moment his head hit the pillow he found himself wide awake, staring at the stark white ceiling in the dark. 

He thought of the case they were working on, still bothered by the missing factor that sat undiscovered in the back of his mind. How something connected all of these things that the unsub was doing. His head spun with the uncertainness of it all, and by the time he had fallen asleep it was already almost four in the morning, and he knew that he would be waking up far before he needed to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone hadn't already realized, I'm absolutely in love with Salem. I don't even live there, I just think it's absolutely beautiful. If anyone that does live there sees anything wrong with anything I've described, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you all for reading.


	3. Raw Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer, having woken up way too early, decides to take Bunny up on her coffee offer. While there, she helps him put two and two together. However, Spencer quickly realizes something is wrong when Bunny mentions a knew detail about her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title: Raw Sugar by Metric
> 
> Music listened to while writing chapter 3  
> Big God - Florence + The Machine   
> Nature Boy (Acoustic) - AURORA  
> Lilly of the Valley - The Dream Masons  
> Pretty Little Head - Eliza Rickman  
> Angel Eyes - Bo Rocha

When Spencer woke, his whole body was heavy with sleep and something in him knew that he hadn’t gotten enough of it. Grabbing his phone, his assumptions were correct, as the phone read 6 am. He had only gotten two hours. Despite this, he swung his legs over the bed. He pondered what he was going to do with the two hours of free time he had before he needed to be back at the station. He considered going back to the library to do more research, but ultimately decided against it when he realized that he wasn’t even sure what he would be researching at that point. 

He stood, bare feet making contact with the cold, wood floors, and shuffled into the bathroom to shower and dress himself. When he had finished his morning routine, it was already 6:30, as he had decided to spend a little more time in the shower than he normally would, enjoying the warmth of the water that enveloped him like a hug, hoping it would bring about a sense of clarity. Ultimately, his head was no clearer than it had been when he had gotten in. He was putting on his socks, one decorated with pumpkins, the other with little witch hats, appropriate for the season, when he had gotten the idea to take Bunny up on her coffee offer. 

He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and dialed her number, which he had memorized on the plane, and let it ring before realizing that it was only 6:30 in the morning and she might not be awake yet. He breathed a sigh of relief however when he heard her voice on the other line.

“Hello?” 

He hesitated a moment. “Bunny? It’s Spencer.” 

“Spencer!” He heard her say excitedly. “How are you!” 

“I’m good, sorry if I woke you.” 

She laughed. “No no, you didn’t don’t worry. I don’t get much sleep during the night so I’ve been awake for a while.” 

“Good.” He paused, nervous. “I was wondering if you’d want to get coffee this morning?” 

“I’d love too!” She answered right away. He exhaled. He wasn’t sure why he was so worried about her answer. “There’s a coffee shop on front street called Front Street Coffeehouse that opens at 7.” 

“That sounds great. I’ll meet you there.” 

“Great! See you soon then.” She hung up and he sat there with the phone still to his ear for a few minutes. Slowly, he set the phone back on the nightstand and shoved his feet into his sneakers. He had quite a bit before the coffee shop was meant to open, so he took his time gathering his things for the day, making sure to grab The Bell Jar so he could discuss it with Bunny. He checked his watch, 6:45, and decided that it would be best to leave now so he could find the shop on time. In the early morning, few people were out, businesses weren’t even open yet. It was quiet and calm and Spencer could almost pretend that he wasn’t here on a horrible murder investigation. Almost. 

It took him little time to find the coffee shop, which he quickly realized had been the coffee shop he promised himself he’d visit before he left. The walk was only about seven minutes and he found himself standing outside the shop, waiting for Bunny. He saw her coming from the opposite direction he had come from. She was wearing the same coat she wore yesterday, and the same black boots. Rather than a black skirt like yesterday, she wore a red tartan skirt with black knee socks under it. As soon as he noticed him, her face lit up and she waved vigorously in excitement. He laughed, and waved back.

“And here I thought I’d be early.” She said once she had gotten closer to him. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold air, leaving a rosy hue that he thought made her more endearing. Coupled with her dark hair and eye makeup, the same she wore yesterday, as well as the new addition of her dark red lipstick, she reminded him of Snow White.

“Technically we’re both early.” He checked his watch, it was mere minutes from the coffee shop opening. He glanced inside and watched the workers busy themselves with setting up for the day. Eventually, a woman inside walked to the door and unlocked it, allowing them to step inside. They stepped up to the counter, Spencer ordering a simple drip coffee with cream. He looked towards Bunny, prompting her to order. 

“I can’t let you pay for me.” 

“Nonsense, think of it as a thank you for giving me the book.” 

She hesitated a moment before smiling and ordering a cappuccino, both decided to have their coffee there rather than to go so they could shield themselves from the chilly morning air for a while. The two seated themselves at a little table off in a corner. 

“Did you finish the book?” She asked, taking off her coat to drape it around the back of her chair. Under her coat she wore a black sweater, with the collar of a white button down peaking over the neckline. He nodded and pulled the book from his bag after he took off his own coat. 

“I finished it on the plane ride here yesterday actually.” He watched that amazed look come to her face, the same look that she had given him when he had told her how many words he could read per minute. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

She looked confused for a moment, but quickly realized what he had meant and chuckled. “I hadn’t even thought about it, but I guess you’re right. Both stories have been a little…” She trailed off. “It’s nothing you should be concerned about if that’s what you mean though.” She waved her hands in front of her face. 

“Oh no no, I know.” He reassured. “It was just an observation. I was actually going to ask you if you were interested in her poetry outside of the book.”

The woman that took their orders at the front desk placed their coffees in front of them. He looked up from his own to look at Bunny’s. Coffee art depicted a little witch hat. Salem certainly did lean into their history. 

“Actually yes, Plath is one of my favorite poets.” She said. He watched her bring her drink to her lips delicately, leaving behind a smudge of red from her lipstick on the white cup. “There’s just something so vulnerable about her poetry that I really enjoy.” 

He hummed in agreement, taking a drink of his own coffee. The liquid seemed to warm him from the inside, something he welcomed and let shake the last bits of sleep from his eyes. “Are you interested in other poets? Or just Plath.” 

“Oh I love poetry in general.” She said quickly. Her hazel eyes sparkled with keen interest. “I’ve always loved poetry since a young age, I’ve been reading it since I could read.” 

“My mom used to read me poetry when I was young.” 

“When I was young, I wanted to be a poet or a writer of some sort. My mom was supportive, but I could tell she didn’t think it was a realistic goal. It’s a very difficult profession despite popular belief. What about your mom? What’s she like?” 

He hesitated a moment. “She’s uh, well.” 

“You don’t have to tell me.” 

He shook his head. “She used to be a professor.” He said. “She taught 15th century literature, but she’s currently in a sanatorium.” 

She looked shocked. “Why?” 

“She’s a paranoid schizophrenic.” He watched her expression morph into one of sympathy. 

“What about your dad?” She asked. “I don’t mean to pry.” 

“It’s not prying.” He wasn’t sure what about her made him want to tell her his whole life story, but he found himself oddly comforted with sharing. “He left when I was young. What about you?” 

“Ah, my dad died when I was pretty young, about five.” She said. “In a car crash.”

He nodded solemnly, and noticed that she was wearing the same necklace she had been a few days ago. “Is that a mourning locket?” He asked. 

She grabbed a hold of the locket, running her fingers over the lily of the valley on it. “It was a gift from my mother.” She said. She opened it, showing him the inside. Both sides of the locket had aging photographs in them. One side of it held a photograph of a pale woman with a kind face. She bore a striking resemblance to Bunny and her sister, with brown hair messily piled on her head in an Edwardian hairstyle and striking hazel eyes. A white lace dress covering all skin other than her face, and a string of pearls adorned her neck. The other side was an equally as pale man with equally as kind features. He had slicked back brown hair and dull gray eyes. He wore a well put together suit. “She gave it to me right before she…” 

He noticed her hesitation. “You don’t have to tell me.” He said, mirroring her previous words.

“No it’s fine, she gave it to me right before she killed herself.” That shocked him, though now he saw why she was subconsciously drawn to Plath. “I was eighteen. Whoo, go me, I’m an orphan.” 

“I’m sorry.” Despite her joke, he saw that it was a sad subject for her.

“Don’t be.” She played with the ends of her black hair. “It looks like we both have interesting mom stories.”

He frantically tried to change the subject, ultimately landing on something he knew about mourning jewelry and lockets in general. “Did you know that women didn’t just wear lockets for mourning, actually lockets with paintings were quite common for women of the victorian period. Queen Elizabeth I of England actually gifted locket rings with her painting in it to many of those in her inner circle.” 

Thankfully, she let out a small laugh. “I did actually.” He looked at her in surprise until she clarified. “My parents were history teachers. It’s how they met actually. So I grew up learning extensively about history.” 

“That makes sense.” And it did. From what he could tell from her photograph, her parents seemed to enjoy dressing in the Edwardian fashion, though that could just be for the picture. “Can I ask why there’s a lily of the valley on the front of the locket?” 

“Ah, my mother’s name was Lily, so she got the lily of the flower engraved on it rather than her initials.” She said. “The back of the locket has an orchid, my father’s favorite flower.” She flipped the locket over and ran her finger over the engraving.

He nodded, taking another drink of his coffee. Despite himself he let his mind wander back to the case. The bizarreness of it all. He must have been spacing, because all of a sudden he noticed Bunny wave her hand in his face. 

“Are you all right?” She asked. Her face held a look of concern, dark brows furrowing together. “I didn’t freak you out with the whole, dead parents thing did I?” 

“No no, you’re fine, I’m just,” He shook his head, “thinking.” He ended finally. 

“Is it about your case.” 

He nodded. She was astute, something he appreciated greatly in a person. “Yeah, there’s just something about it that’s been bothering me.” 

“If you’d like, you can talk about it.” She said. “I’m a great listener.” 

He hesitated a moment, unsure about whether or not to mention it. Ultimately, whether he was supposed to or not, he decided having someone to talk to about it would be good for him. “Well, the unsub, uh unknown subject, has been kidnapping people and dressing them in historical masquerade clothing.” She tilted her head in confusion, prompting him to continue. “And to make things weirder, the victims showed early signs of tuberculosis when they were examined.” 

“That’s bizarre.” She mumbled. He watched her take a packet of sugar from the container on the table and open it, sucking the contents from the bag directly into her mouth. She hummed in thought through the sugar bag. 

“Something about it just seems familiar to me. Not the killing per say, just the combination of the masquerade and the disease.” 

She nodded in agreement, taking the sugar bag out of her mouth and grabbing another one. “It sounds like he’s having some kind of weird ball.” 

“He’s definitely delusional. The only problem is I can’t figure out what the delusion is. But I think once it’s figured out, it might be easier to find him.” He watched her rip open the second sugar bag and treat it the same as the first. Never in his life had he ever seen someone eat raw sugar for fun. “Do you always eat sugar like that?” He asked.

She smiled at him and shrugged. “I just enjoy sweet things. How are the victims killed?” 

“They’re stabbed in the stomach, most likely when they don’t comply with his vision.” 

She gasped loudly, slamming her hands down on the table. “Oh my god.” 

He jumped. “What, what is it? Are you okay?” 

“Masque of the Red Death.” She said suddenly. 

Masque of the Red Death was a short story by Poe he was rather familiar with. He remembered reading it from a book of his collected work his mother had gotten for him when he was younger, but he wasn’t sure what it had to do with this. 

“It might be a stretch, but hear me out.” She started. “What if that’s what he’s emulating. If he has tuberculosis, that could be what he’s running from. In the story, Prince Prospero locks himself and a bunch of other nobles away in a mansion to run from the red death, and holds a masquerade ball. However, eventually the disease catches up with them all and they all die, including Prince Prospero who is stabbed by a mysterious visitor that turns out to not actually exist.” 

He looked at her in astoundment. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It was certainly a good idea, something that seemed more than plausible. If that was indeed what the unsub is imagining, then there’s a good chance he lives in a large house by himself, most likely near the woods. 

“Sorry, that sounded kind of stupid didn’t it.” 

“No, actually I think that might just be it.” He said excitedly. He stood quickly, downing the rest of his coffee that by now had cooled down to room temperature. “I need to go, I need to share this with my team, thank you.” He gathered his coat and bag. 

“Wait, there’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about before you go.” She said. 

He stopped in his hurriedness to look at her. She had a shy look on her face, like she wasn’t sure if she should have mentioned it in the first place. 

“Halloween in Salem is always a huge deal, and well every year there’s this huge costume party that my sister and I always go to.” She talked quickly, unsure of herself. “My sister knows the person who throws the party personally, so we always get free tickets every year, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me, that is if you solve the case in time.” 

He smiled. “I’d love to. I’ve always wanted to go to a Salem Halloween party. Halloween is my favorite holiday.” 

She looked at him, an excited look on her face. “Really? That’s great! Ah, if you text me your measurements, I can have my sister make us costumes!” 

“Wait, your sister?” He felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“Yeah she’s a sewing teacher.” She said. “She teaches sewing lessons in her apartment.” 

“Bunny, where’s your sister right now.” 

“I’m not sure, I’ve been staying at her apartment while I’m here but she wasn’t there when I left this morning. I just figured she had things to do, so I didn’t think too hard about it.” His face must have shown his worry, because her own face quickly grew anxious. “Why Spencer, what’s wrong?”

“Bunny, we need to go right now.” 

“Go? Go where? What’s going on?” She frantically grabbed her coat from her chair. 

He looked at her. “I think your sister might be in danger.” 


End file.
